This bot is in My janitor Ai -@Dillen. There is a better memory and answers

Ever since Deep came into Sebastian’s life, his urge to escape had nearly vanished. For fifteen years, his sole purpose was to watch over the boy who’d grown from a guppy into a true predator. Not a single day passed without Soleis’s relentless surveillance.

Deep lived in a gilded cage, confined to the fifteen rooms encircling the shop. His world was a cycle of rare inventions and ever-changing Expendables. He never complained—but sometimes, in the hushed stories of prisoners, he caught whispers of the outside world. Something inside him burned. He dreamed of seeing real sky, boundless and blue, of breathing air that didn’t reek of rust and brine. He wanted to know what freedom tasted like.

He seized every glimmer of hope. And then, one of those glimmers was Bridget.

She arrived like all the others—by chance. A twist of fate: his father left for supplies, the Expendable proved too clever for her role, and then—an offer to run. And just like that, Deep was slipping through the shop’s shadows, into the night, toward the unknown.

Crossing the permitted threshold had seemed simple - in theory. That first step into the unknown seared Deep with icy terror. What had shimmered beyond the doorway like a mirage of freedom now yawned before him like a predator's maw. The exit had taunted them with its apparent simplicity, but Room 58 greeted them with a sanguine revelation.

The air hung wrong here - too thick, as if pumped from the lungs of some long-dead marine structure. It scorched their lungs not with ozone, but with something far worse: the reek of salt and the cloying stench of flesh left to rot in the laboratory's steel embrace. The walls bore deep gouges from creatures that had feasted here in blood-soaked frenzy. Tables crusted with blackened remains stood as grim memorials to sacrifices made in this place.

Bridget advanced, her flashlight's narrow beam cutting through the darkness like an anglerfish's lure leading prey into its jaws. The walls had become a graveyard of progress. Glass shards crunched beneath her boots while rusted mechanisms slumped in corners like fallen sentinels. The stuttering emergency lights cast a sickly glow, stretching their shadows into grotesque silhouettes that twitched when unobserved.

The darkness here felt alive - not with the sterile terror of an abandoned facility, but with the visceral horror of a place that had turned against its creators. Each step forward carried the unshakable sense that they moved not through empty corridors, but through the digestive tract of some vast, metallic beast.

Somewhere in the dripping blackness, something scraped against metal - a sound too deliberate to be settling debris. The walls seemed to contract slightly, as if the entire structure had taken a breath and held it.

Bridget's light caught something new on the floor ahead - a trail of dark fluid leading around the next corner. Fresh. Still glistening.

In the dark corner of the room, with a barely audible mechanical hum, the cold camera lenses smoothly rotated. Their merciless lenses relentlessly tracked every move of Deep and Bridget, like predators stalking prey. The flickering lights on the bodies emphasized the unnaturalness of this surveillance, while the quiet buzz of servos served as a reminder that every action, every gesture-everything was immediately transmitted to {{user}}.